I left the Hotel in Charlieu by 9.30 (the bill was a bit heavy, but mostly because of the Perrier I had been drinking in front of the hotel and from the mini-bar) and set straight off on the road to Roanne.  It was a good-quality Route Nationale, and before I knew it, I was approaching the Le Coteau Industrial Zone. (Roanne has grown over the years. When I came here last, it was the same size as Lancaster.  Now it is about the size of Preston!)  I was very lucky with my drive into the centre, (or was it a vestigial memory of what it used to be?) and I found the railway station first try.  I parked in the station car park and walked to the syndicat d’initiative. (Still in the same place, but bigger now).  

The woman there was charming and very helpful and set me up with a hotel in the town centre, only 50 yards from the Lycée Jean Puy (although she did at first try to sell me an Ibis with air conditioning in Le Coteau).  I drove straight there (this time I am sure that I remembered the roads) and was greeted by Mme on the doorstop.  

The Hotel de la Grenette was there in the 70s, but I don’t particularly remember seeing it.  It is certainly old, and Mme explained (as she gave me the front door key) that she is “sort of shut” at the moment because of the fermeture annuelle, but she takes people like me who are passing through and want to stay. So here I am, the sole guest in the hotel as far as I am aware, with my own key, and Mme’s mobile number if I have a problem, because she isn’t here either.  It’s a bit like “The Shining”!  All I want to know is – if I am the only guest -  why did she make me haul my case up three flights of stairs and along a quarter of a mile of corridor to reach my room.  It is without a doubt, the most inaccessible room in the hotel!

I then went for a long walk round Roanne to re-acquaint myself. (It lasted from 11am until about 9.30pm).  There are so many things the same and so many changes that it is a strange feeling walking around the town centre.  Every street corner and every building brought back a memory or the face of a long-forgotten friend.  It was a bitter-sweet day.

The rue Charles de Gaulle is now a pedestrian precinct (which is good, but they have put a ‘superloo’ where I used to park the Jaguar, which lacks due respect I feel).  Père Gateaux’s Bar des PTT is now a mobile phone shop and “Aux Dames de France” opposite has degenerated into a McDonalds. (In the gastronomic heart of France! - Sacrilege!)

Monoprix is still there however and the Lycée Jean Puy is unchanged from the front, although there is a new wing at the side.  I looked through the railings that I used to climb to get into the school after lockup and saw that the old gymnasium is still there, and amazingly, still has the same wooden doors with a distinctive design on them.  I resisted the urge to shin over the railings again.  (I would have no doubt done myself a mischief, as well as get arrested) and settled for peering through windows and down passageways before eventually moving on, my head full of memories.

I had an easily forgettable lunch at a Taverne Alsacienne, and then plodded around for most of the afternoon, trying to take everything in.  I found a DVD copy of “Un Homme et Une Femme” in Espace Forum, (a favourite film, which I shall watch when I have finished writing this), and a book of Doisneau photographs which I flicked through while drinking my n’th Perrier of the day at a shady table. I also found an Internet café, and checked my e-mail (mostly spam), caught up on the news at the BBC site (3,000 French dead so far as a result of the heat wave apparently!) and sent a quick e-mail to Sammy (which would have been a lot quicker if I hadn’t been trying to cope with an AZERTY keyboard!)

I found a batch of street restaurants in a side street off the town hall and was amazed to meet the owner of the hotel in Charlieu who was there eating with his wife. (Obviously the place to go!)
I promised myself that I was only going to have a main course tonight, as I have been eating so much recently, but when I saw the menu, I settled for a “salade riche” (foie-gras, smoked salmon and all!) cuisses de grenouille (for old time’s sake), and a fromage blanc.  

In penance, I refused the dessert and just had a coffee before strolling back to the hotel to wash my smalls and settle down for the night with my DVD.  I noticed that there is an interesting exhibition of sculpture at the Musée des Beaux Arts and I intend to give it a look tomorrow.

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